Wrecking Ball

Capter -1-

Hell.

That's where sisters come from.

Yes, I am a sister myself, but I consider myself a nicer demon than the rest. They're only a few of those around anymore, which is quite sad, but I've learned to deal. Bottling up all my emotions for the entire day, until the sun goes down, when I share all my problems with a cold, lifeless object.

My razor blade.

Gliding it quickly, and smoothly across my pale wrist to reveal a fresh cut, soon to be a faded scar like the rest.

Most people find it completely mental as to why someone would want to harm themselves, just because life is hard, but they're wrong. My life's hard, or at least not as hard as a lot of people have it.

I could be living on the streets. I could have abusive parents. I just get bullied. A lot. Mostly by Nicole, my 17 year old sister, her friends, and the track team, but that's mostly it, except when Nicole convinces the Football team to gang up on me, which has only happened twice. Even Amy, my 11 year old sister, who used to be my ally, has turned against me.

If I didn't get bullied so often at school, I would love it, but sadly, that is not reality.

Well, enough of this pre-story bullshit, lets get on with my story. Mine and Harry's.

~*~

I jumped out of bed as my alarm clock blared its constant beeping, driving me completely mad. 

I walked quickly to my closet, the cold wooden floor beneath my feet causing a rush through my legs. I picked out an outfit that would not draw attention to myself in the school halls; a grey sweater, black leggings, and a pair of dirty white converse, stained with grass and mud.

I ran quickly across the hallway, to the bathroom, hoping Nicole, my older sister, wouldn't be up, racing to it as I was. I quickly locked the door after I closed it, turned the shower on to as hot as it would get, and stripped off.

I looked into the mirror and frowned at my chubby, red complexion. "Curvy" to me was just another version of over weight. I made myself a silent vow that i would not be eating anything today. A juice cleanse perhaps! Yes, lets call it that, I prefer that over starving myself.

I stepped into the shower, and let the hot water beat down on my back, causing my sore, tired muscles to relax.

I lathered my hair with pomegranate shampoo and conditioner and scrubbed my body raw with my loofah and the jumped out of the shower with a small glimmer of hope that today would finally be a good day.

I put on deodorant, pulled my clothes on, blow dried my hair, and applied a small amount of makeup. 

As I was walking back to my room, I felt a hot, tingling sensation on my right cheek and realized: Nicole had slapped me.

"Why did you take so long?!  I needed the fucking bathroom!" She exclaimed before storming into the bathroom and slamming the door closed.

I walked into my room, rubbing my throbbing cheek with the palm of my hand, trying to get the redness and puffiness to go down before i had to face my mother at breakfast.

I picked my backpack up and stood confident that if i kept a positive attitude about the day ahead of me, it would be a good one. 

I ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, where my mom was brewing a pot of coffee. "Morning sweetheart," she whispered in my ear as she gave me a tight hug.

"Morning." I muttered as I took a small bottle of orange juice from the fridge. Dad always left really early in the morning for work, so he was no where to be seen, and probably wouldn't be until late tonight.